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mom poem

chantez-encore à la chanson vous chanté
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
jusqu'à sa fenêtre de chambre
donc je ne puis pas
ce que je souhaite remarquer
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
beaux, tragical visages
fleurs des bébés

 



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